Faces of War
Chapter 44: Harbinger
Disclaimer: The Characters, or at least most of them, are the work of JRR Tolkien, I merely "dabble" in some altered universe situations our hobbits could have encountered!
Julia baggins...I am happy you are enjoying the story...it has become rather more complex than I had first envisioned it...but Frodo is still alive and is going to very soon regain some of his stubborn strength and tenacity!
Althea...all I can say is "wow"...you certainly put a lot of thought into your reviews! Yes, Sam is "fair well torn in two"...and I am glad you enjoyed seeing Merry and Pippin ( I am afraid I had to spirit them off in this chapter so that they may show up elsewhere soon!)...with the cousins now gone Sam is at a "low"...to tired, to heartsick to now what to do to help! Aragorn finds his direction in this chapter...yes, he too is torn...but his answer is born of the same thing that fuels Sams angst...love.
lovethosehobbits...thank you for saying that...this story is taking me by surprise...it keeps twisting and turning and I struggle not to get so far from the original story line that I'll "lose my threads" so to speak...but thank you for sticking with it...it is coming to a "head" now...soon, very soon more characters will come together. I re-read a chapter in Phantasism...and me a Psych minor...tsk tsk...how could I have missed the Pavlov thing? Silly of me! How did the cycle get broken? "Just" through the kindness and love of Sam etc...or is Lorelei setting Frodo up to see him "fall" even harder later?
endymion2...Yep...the swarthy, sweaty and bare chested bad guys are back...Keldor is feeling a might put out about a few things...which will soon be very important! I keep trying to slip Chrys in...seeking to have her love "tug" at Frodo...to give him incentive to fight back...he will soon find other incentives as well! I am not at all ashamed to admit that I do not have a Beta...nor do I know how to go about getting one...how it works...etc...I am very open to the notion of obtaining one...do you know where one might be found and how much groveling I have to do in order to obtain their services? Please feel free to correct me...I love to write and want to "get better"...so as they say "no pain, no gain"...Thanks for the review!
Braellyleatherleaf...I am glad you think so...I am trying to bring more colorful images to the story without losing the pace of the dialog...tough balance with so many characters and transitioning across so many settings! Chrys and Sam are each in their own way working to bring Frodo back, to shore him up and prepare him for his "next step"...I hope that the memories and visits by Chrys "tug" at Frodo and make him want to live...you'll soon see that Frodo is remembering another reason he has to live...the strongest one of all perhaps...so you will soon
( not this chapter...here I just plant the seed) see Frodo start to make his way back...there's tons more conflict ahead and a "surprise" ending in store for those of you who've been so loyal and "stuck with it"...even when the dialog dragged and the ailments seemed endless...bless you for reviewing so regularly...it really is appreciated!
Moonlightshadow...Yes, now Sam and Aragorn have inner questions and angst...you'll see that in this chapter Sam is getting worn down and Aragorn finally becomes more decisive! The three hobbits will be "broken" only for a brief change of scene...and to make Sam's conflict more poignant...and yes, our swarthy and black hearted bad guy is back!
Now...back to the story...
The scout pulled back quickly and efficiently on his mounts reins, the horse, broken to the whim of men responded in a heartbeat and with a slight puff of dust about his hooves, stopped. Hanlon looked with a growing roil of queasy despair that put his stomach on edge, at the scene of death and destruction before him. The small river side encampment was trampled with the signs of many assailants, tents burnt down, supplies scattered, belongings ransacked and death. Everywhere the sight and smell of death met Hanlon's senses and he found himself unconsciously reaching to cover his face to block the wave of rancid aromas that wafted towards him with the slight shift in the evening breeze. The fact that he knew none of the men before him gave Hanlon no comfort, for while he did not recognize any of these twisted and mangled bodies as names or persons of import, he knew the sight of such slaughter to bring senseless pain and to incite a desire to bring a savage revenge upon the perpetrators of such violence.
The Scout sighed heavily and pursed his lips at the thought of the tasks that lay before him. The Gondorian soldier knew the next hours would be grisly indeed, for in the half day since he'd first come to view the encampment and reported it's secrets to Lord Faramir, the heat of the sun and the carrion beast had begun their tasks. As he looked over the stiffened and swollen bodies he thought of the waste, in his mind he saw there would be no songs sung, no festivals or great parades of marchers to celebrate this noble deed, none would hear of the heros fallen this day, no glory would be had from this slaughter and he sighed heavily as he imagined the pain these soldiers left behind in the form of lonely wives, bereft children and bitter parents.
Almost as if his minds' images were a vision beheld by others, a voice beside him said
" their deaths would seem to count for little Hanlon..." the new steward of Gondor said quietly, his deep grey eyes sweeping the scene of destruction before them "but we shall be sure that their deaths do not count for naught." Faramir's voice, which had been as hard and tempered with steel as his sight, suddenly gentled with his next words as a faraway look fell upon his face " a certain gentlehobbit in my acquaintance would never forgive himself if he were to learn of the this, he would not deem himself worthy of such sacrifices." Faramir turned from his viewing of the carnage to look Hanlon full in the face " Frodo must not learn of this Hanlon, these deaths shall fuel our purpose, not bring self loathing and more guilt to our ringbearer, who has sacrificed much of himself already for the good of man." Hanlon was struck by the pain and self recrimination that seemed to cross his often stern commander's face. The soldier vowed then, within his heart, to do all that this noble and sensitive steward asked of him and he felt his heart swell with pride that he was among those chosen to help in this special quest.
The moment of reflective viewing lasted an almost awkward length of time, the distant cry of birds and soft lapping of water against nearby rocks sounds which swelled to fill the void left in the distance between word and thought until finally Hanlon found himself speaking to break the growing pain filled silence of the Steward's gaze. "I shall see to clearing the site my Lord" Hanlon said respectfully. Faramir, with one last moment of memory and a silent and fervent wish for a successful resolution to their duties, replied "and I shall assist you in this honor".As they swung down from their mounts, Faramir noted the distant sound of hoofbeats that signaled the coming of the remainder of their guard "we haven't much time" the steward said using his eyes to gesture toward the approaching troop..."let us begin our task and bring these men the dignity they have earned, the others will soon join us in this endeavor" he said with a solemn nod to the array of bodies. Hanlon, with a slowly swelling lump of pride preventing him from speaking, nodded as he took his axe from the saddle and began to cut the kindling needed for the funeral pyre of his fallen comrades.
The distant echo of voice ricocheted between the canyon walls. Voices risen in merry tunes
and punctuated by a variety of giggles and laughter, the swell of voices gathering in a round of song floated with the dust above the cart's sturdy wheels.
Away we go, away we go
If there be heat or there be cold
Where we end up who shall know?
Away we go...away we go...
The thin a high pitched voices of the orphan children were pitted against the deep and often off key notes of their dwarven driver, the sound carried through out the distances of the steep walled heights of the canyon. Galen laughed and threw up his hands in defeat "cease this caterwauling master dwarf...I give in...we shall stop as soon as a spot presents itself" he laughed and shouted loudly to be heard above the cacophony of sound now fading to distant echoes. Gimli snorted his assent " it 'tis about time you listened to reason my man friend" he said with a smirk as he tilted his head to eye the guard upon his horse beside the cart. Galen shook his head and replied with a broad grin on his lips and mirth in his words "reason is it then? This is how the dwarves bend the will of others? They 'sing' them into submission!" Gimli turned to the lad beside him on the wagon seat and cocked his head knowingly "the ways of dwarves are indeed fraught with peril young master, eh?"
The booming laugh of the dwarf, the grin and easy banter of Galen all gave Kylos a feeling of safety and comfort, a feeling of near contentment. It felt strange he thought to be able to smile and laugh and sing...just being out from under the crushing weight of responsibility that had lay upon him since the death of his parents so many months ago brought a dim glow of hope to weary heart and spirit. The war wounds of this lad ran deep, and Kylos closed his eyes but a moment to picture the warmth of home, the love of family...and he saw instead images of suffering and despair as moments from his last torturous weeks flashed before him. He saw the tear stained face of a sobbing child, fear and nameless terror reflecting in dark eyes and the fever induced dreams of a frail hobbit. In the flash of a heartbeat he realized that what came to him as memory were visions of what could be happening now, for these images were not of familiar times or places, and he opened his eyes with a start as he tried to convince himself that perhaps he'd just been caught in the dreams of a brief nap. Looking about him, twisting around to see all in his party, he knew he'd not dreamed, the orphans still sang their same song, the dwarf and the man still engaged in their easy banter...no, this was no dream and the realization of this 'gift' he'd been given caused a shiver to raise the hair upon the back of his neck..."no dream" he whispered in fear. He sat quiet in his new found fear, not wanting to take the moments of peace and good will from the children he'd grown to feel so responsible for, although in his heart he sensed that those he loved were not yet as safe as he.
The wagon full of orphans, the cart of oft fear filled and passive youngsters was transformed as the fingers of hope, weaving their way like gossamer threads through the fabric of their torn lives, began to take root. Galen, his eyes looking ever vigilantly to the trail before them turned to the dwarven driver and said "we shall break for rest and food as we reach the mouth of the canyon, Your elf friend told me we shall reach the end of the canyon and turn to travel north west along the river way until we meet up with the second boat and the King's men upon her." The man paused and spoke quietly so that none but the stocky dwarf could hear as the children began in upon another song "with any luck we shall meet with the King and Frodo as well...within a day, two at the most the King's plan was to be at the berth of the second ship" Galen paused in his commentary and grinned to Gimli "unless there is a reason your elf friend would not lead you true master dwarf?" Gimli sputtered but a moment as he realized that Galen sought to bait him with his words."I shall show you true then master Galen, you'll not need to worry of the truth of elf kind...for hard won though a friendship with their kind shall be, once made, 'tis never put asunder...so count always upon the steadfastness of dwarves and the loyalty of elf kind!". Galen smiled at the stalwart dwarf's defense of his unusual alliance, but said nothing more as he contemplated a moment the unusual paths he had tread of late and the strange bonds of fellowship he'd been privileged to observe and to assist. Man, dwarf, halfling and elf, common workers and those of noble descent, warriors and scholars, men of fearsome strength who were brought low by the care they felt for others, small and seemingly frail bodies with the strength and fortitude of great warriors. Galen stole a look to the lad beside Gimli and then back to the wagon full of children, 'the children are the strangest piece of all in this new picture of middle earth' he found himself thinking 'what path lies before them?'. The lone wagon and rider continued through the heat of the mid day, their progress marked by bursts of songs and the telling of tales as they slowly made their way towards the river.
Waves of shimmering heat danced before Rosetta's eyes as she stood still a moment to catch her breath from the exertion of their hike upon the ridge. The heat of the day and her occasional tear served to cause runnels of salty liquid to run slowly down her face. She lifted her bound hands and with some small gesture that spoke of her irritation attempted yet again to clear the liquid from her damp forehead and tearstained cheeks. The dark kerchief, one of her Ada Frodo's old handkerchiefs which had been tied about her curls to tame her wayward locks, had long since fallen to it's position as a dampened addition to the collar of her frock. She, at the urging of her captor forced herself to move and stumbled a little as she lifted her weary feet one after the other in a ceaseless torture of motion. She sniffled loudly as a sudden memory of a dark haired story teller, the warmth of a stolen moment of song and the security of a night's sleep wrapped tucked into his small chest came to her and she wondered where he was and if he was as tired as she was. She tried to recall the words of one of his stories, attempting to take the misery of her sore feet from her mind by filling her thoughts with the deeds of others. As she trudged along, almost satisfied that she could recall the tale of the beginning days of the Numenoreans, she heard a cry.
Garth had fallen in his tracks and was being helped none to gently to his feet by the roaming hands of two of the corsair guards. Rosetta watched, too terrified to call out as the guards pulled the boy against first one and then shoved him to the arms of the other. Garth, his dark eyes wide with terror could only stutter "no...no, no...please...no...don't" as the two guards laughed at their foul game and allowed their meaty hands to hold the boy in an intimate and overly close fashion. The shaken lass could only feel more tears dribble down her cheeks as she tried to find the strength to cry out at the boy's rough handling, but she felt not courage alone on that ridge and her lips trembled as she found herself speaking to her missing friend "Where are you Ada Frodo? Have you forgotten your Princess? The bad men are here...I need your help, your stories, your hope..." as Rosetta looked upon the scene of abuse before her she could only whisper "help me Sir Frodo."
Before Rosetta could work up enough courage to help her friend she heard the voice of the old healer "no then, stop it, can't ye see that the poor mite is all but terrified of you great brutes...now stop it I tell you." As he spoke Terren moved closer and closer to where the lad was being tossed between the two men, finally managing to come between them Terren knelt down and clumsily clasped his bound but shaking arms about the terrified lad..."there now Garth...settle child" he whispered. The two men, angered at the loss of their sport quickly moved in on Terren and with one deft toss threw the cowering Garth out of the way and fell to beating the old man with fist and feet. Rosetta cried out in alarm and tried to run forward, only to find her waist ensnared in the grip of her guard who laughed as he hoisted her kicking and screaming in the air to keep her from his mates sport.
A coldly sharp voice broke through the sounds of landed blows and snorted laughs "cease this immediately" Keldor barked "or the next of you to raise a hand shall do so against me". The snarling men immediately backed down and Rosetta's guard placed her upon the ground with a not so gentle 'thump'. Her feet were moving as she came in contact once more with the ground and she ran to where Terren lay huddled on his side, body curled into a ball to protect his head and stomach from the vicious thrashing. Rosetta flung herself upon the moaning old man and did her best to wrap herself about him as she cried "Terren, Terren...are you hurt?". The old man, shaken from his beating did his best to reassure the little girl and patted her hand "sh, sh child...I shall be just fine, I am not badly hurt...now help me up." Rosetta could only cry and kiss the dirty grey and red tinged spot upon Terren's head that had been laid open with a well aimed kick.
The slender lad with the dark curls and deep brown eyes who'd been the original target of their sport picked himself up and came to stand near the huddled figures upon the ground. His eyes flashed with anger as he tilted his head to look up to the leader of the Corsairs "children and old men?" he questioned, his voice soft and scared at first, hesitant in it's task but gaining strength and conviction as it continued "children and old men you choose to humiliate and fill with fear...what manner of men are you to find your bravery at the expense of children and old men?"
Garth broke from his commentary to reach down and pull a trembling Rosetta off of the healer and then continued "what could be of such import that you find the need to torture us so?" he asked, his words spoken from the heart did nothing to change the stance of the man before him who had none. Keldor stared coldly at the strangely brave child before him as Garth began to take a step back in fear of what new torment his harsh words might bring upon him.
The Corsair captain, black eyes cold and penetrating took a step forward and reached down to grip Garth's chin and yank it up so that they were staring straight to the depth of each others eyes "Revenge " Keldor growled. "We will have our revenge upon your so called 'King' of Gondor" he sneered in contempt of those words upon his lips and he pulled Garth even closer as the lad attempted to push back from the broad chest of the ruffian, his bound hands not making the slightest impression on the smooth muscled expanse of skin. Terren lay still huddled upon the ground and the princess inched closer to him as she watched the interaction between the failing courage of her friend and the mounting anger of the corsair. Keldor's lips were mere inches from Garth's as he said, his voice laced with the venom of pure hatred "we shall retrieve that which is ours...at any cost and with mercy towards none...as his army of the dead showed no mercy". Garth felt a shudder of terror race through him as Keldors rank odors and the specter of his crushing strength brought back wave upon wave of images. "And if I do not retrieve all that is mine, then I shall take.. what... is... not" the words slithered sickening sweet from the swarthy face of the Corsair and Garth felt his world darken to a tiny tunnel of light and suddenly he was cast aside like a limp doll, his body falling with little noise to the leafy detritus of the ground.
Pain washed over him, unrelenting pain which came in waves and built to their crushing apex in the general area of his foot, but waves which crashed upon him in regular intervals and sapped the strength of his entire mind and body. His eyes were tightly closed and he tightened his hands to fists as he tensed his body in preparation for the next round, slowly tightening and relaxing his muscles in an attempt to wrest control from the insidious presence of this swirling pain. 'I...must...not...give...in' he found the words in the deepest recesses of his mind and he added the use of such thoughts to the tightening of his muscles as slowly he built a wall and stocked his arsenal against that which sought to take him. He found himself seeking to add more to his weapon of words and slowly his mind began to make motion, to come from hiding and to seek through the corners of his memories for images that he could hold to. A new wave was building, his muscles tensed, his eyes watered and he heard himself moan...but still he sought for the sustenance of words and image to take him through his pain. A cloudy, hazy space opened before him...a distant voice sang...words of love, of hope, of journeys to be taken...The words gave way to a face and the beauty of fire spun into gold was before him as the fine and delicate features of a hobbit lass with hair a halo of amber seemed to float towards him.
"Chrys" he moaned..."my love.." he mumbled, his voice barely discernable against the background of harsh ragged breaths and heart wrenching moans "Chrys" he moaned through lips chapped and split, a small trickle of blood seeping from one corner. Sam reached to sooth his master, with word and the care of gentle caresses, he wiped the blood from Frodo's lips and changed the fever cloth upon his brow. The exhausted Hobbit reached to tuck the blankets more firmly about the weakly thrashing body beside him and found his hand caught in the large calloused grip of Strider "Here Sam, let me, you shall do Frodo no good if you fall ill from exhaustion, let me tend him while you sleep," Sam, too tired and too saddened to protest, allowed Strider to help him up and on shaky legs was led to his blankets. He looked mournfully to where Frodo lay just a few feet away and as he lowered himself to his sleeping roll and he looked, eyes reflecting the agony of his heart, to the deep compassion of his King. "Help 'em Strider...help him from his pain...I am not strong enough to see his pain, and with Merry and Pippin gone off with Legolas ta find Faramir...I can not just sit by as all that is good in this world slowly dies before me" Sam was too tired, too drained to even cry and his last words as he slowly closed his eyes to sleep rent a hole in his heart " you love him too Aragorn...why do you let him suffer?". Aragorn knelt a moment beside the softly snoring Gardener, he reached down to brush a curl from Sam's face and he had the grace to allow a tear fall and softly land amid the disarray of gold curls "because I love him too Sam..."
Frodo's images shifted as the waves receded once more. He saw lines of weary children, dirt encrusted faces, hands blackened from their toil and the sudden flash of yellow as a small child darted past. He breathed raggedly as he felt the waves build again, muscles tensing he fought to return to his images and he saw the golden child, rosebud lips, rounded cheeks and deep blue eyes as they looked to him and asked "where are you Ada?" The images wavered and shifted and suddenly the children were gone...all but the golden one, she stood with feet firmly planted, wind tousling her curls as the ground she stood upon dipped down and slowly rose up again. Her lips were moving, she seemed to be shouting but he could not make out the words...and he felt himself growing anxious as he could see the fear steadily growing in her eyes.
A sudden shock of cold water upon him made him gasp and he shook his head from side to side seeking to reconnect to his fading vision of the golden child...he thrashed back and forth violently now and felt hands hold him down as one last image flashed before him. He watched, straining through his fear to breathe, as the girl, eyes streaming with tears fought against the hands of another who sought to subdue her. She was roughly yanked upwards and in a heartbeat he understood why the ground had moved so beneath her, the waters beside the ship, frothing with their wind tipped whitecaps, framed the terror in her eyes and the vision faded with the words 'no, please..no...help me Ada Frodo..no..." and he struggled wildly to sit up, hands grabbing at any purchase to bring him from his pain and to stop the pain of another and he, eyes opened wide in terror gasped "no...not the children" before one last wave tightened it's grip upon him and pulled him under. His body shook to come free of the waves death grip upon him as he tensed and tightened some muscles and released others in a cycle of convulsive response to his fever that caused all in the camp to come to his aid.
Aragorn had felt the mounting fever and had brought buckets of cool water from the river, at first gently washing the fevered face, then pouring water upon the dark curls hoping to bring down the fever. As the convulsions set in Aragorn recognized that he'd been too late and he called to Qurag to help as they struggled to bring the convulsing hobbit to the bank of the cold Anduin. "Hold him Qurag" Aragorn shouted as he picked up the blankets and gestured that the Orc should follow to the riverside. Qurag, without a moments hesitation plunged into the icy river water, to be followed by the Ranger King and together they kept the shaking hobbit from going under as his body was thrust first on way, then another. Aragorn struggled madly to get a thick leather strap between Frodo's frothing lips and with a quick decisive motion grabbed the hobbits dark curls in one hand, jerked the head back and placed the strap upon his bleeding tongue. Sam, who'd been awakened by the commotion leapt into action and soon had the fire built up with blankets warming by the side, new bandages laid out and several pans of water heating.
Qurag felt the slight body in his arms begin to slowly cease it's cycle of tensing muscles and shaking limbs as Frodo's body temperature began to cool at last. Aragorn, in the water himself up to his waist splashed about checking limbs to see that no more damage had been caused. He stopped at last by Qurags shoulder and leaned over to run his hand through Frodo's hair, lift his eyelids to check for pupil response and noted his gradually slowing pulse. He observed a small tremor in the hobbit's head and a slackening of his lips and he motioned to Qurag to tilt the slight body forward and stepped back as Frodo vomited. The retching continued for a few moments as the throughly spent hobbit voided both bowel and bladder as well to rid himself of his built up toxins. Aragorn sighed as he watched the flowing water take away the evidence of Frodo's illness "well, luck is with us tonight it would seem Qurag...at least we shall not have to clean him" he tried to make light and to ease the tension felt by all, but a felt a tear instead come to his eyes and his legs grow suddenly weak.
Qurag saw the weakening in the King and slowly made his way to shallower water where he gestured for Aragorn to sit on a nearby rock. He himself squatted in the water, cradling the now limp body in his arms, carefully cupping his hands and splashing vomit from Frodos lips and excrement from about his legs. Sam silently brought a cake of soap from his pack and splashed into the water to lift the oversized shirt from Frodo and begin to give him a thorough washing. Aragorn, still sitting upon the rock watched the care and devotion shown the seemingly dead hobbit as Sam and Qurag silently went about the task of gently washing, legs, back, arms and lastly head and hair. The King made count of the many hurts, tallied up all the reasons Frodo had to leave this world and made a decision.
"Bring him to the fire, we will dry him, redress his wounds...let him regain some warmth and then we will leave this site." The Kings words, though softly spoken, were not to be taken lightly. Sam started to protest but Aragorn cut him off "Sam he is in need of the children, he..he is in some way a part of them as they are in need of him...I, I can't explain how I know this...but he must see Rosetta before the end." Sam shook his head " He canna travel in his weakened state Aragorn...the trip will be the end of him." Qurag nodded, the fierce Orc looked down at the slight form in his arms with a look of admiration in his eyes, he too was beginning to see what the King had begun to understand " Ringbearer lives not for self...he lives for those in need"the muscled Orc said gruffly, yet with a heartfelt understanding. Aragorn stared a moment at the Orc squatting in the water and nodded slowly "yes Qurag, Frodo will find his life through others now..."